


Dust

by ambiguously



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, F/M, Grave Robbers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:41:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23271904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambiguously/pseuds/ambiguously
Summary: When Rey tries to retrieve something she needs from the graves of her parents, she's interrupted by a stranger with the same powers she possesses.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 10
Kudos: 44
Collections: Ijustfellintothissendhelp, May the 4th Be With You Star Wars Fanworks Exchange 2020





	Dust

**Author's Note:**

  * For [distant_mother](https://archiveofourown.org/users/distant_mother/gifts).



Rey sensed someone following her long before she saw him. She'd survived on the streets long enough to know showing any kind of acknowledgment of the threat, or fear, would make things much worse. She kept her steps steady and her gaze casual as she looked around. Her destination wasn't far, although she had no intention of leading her pursuer directly to it.

The cemetery boasted few lights this far in, long past the fine mausoleums and prim, elegant graves of the well-to-do. The poor and the castoffs and the unholy, these were not granted the comforts of arcing sodium lamps to illuminate their quiet evenings. It was dark, and Rey liked it that way most of the time. She didn't fear the night. She would not let herself be afraid of the intruder into her solitude now.

A huge old oak, thick with age, overhung this part of the cemetery with wide branches. Rey walked past it, and melted into the shadows beyond. She closed her eyes, and reached inside herself for the magic that allowed her to become part of the living sentinel, hidden inside a glamour of wood. She felt the sap inside her veins, felt the earthy richness of the wood envelop her skin. She became rooted to the ground, a shadow of this tree and nothing more. The one following her would never see her.

She sensed the motion of her pursuer, and heard the quietest footsteps such as those of a cat.

The figure paused next to the tree.

"Interesting," said a voice. Male, which she had expected. Thoughtful, which she had not. "That's a better glamour than most dustlings can cast." He moved with sudden, swift purpose. A long blade rested against her neck. The cool metal sent a shiver through her. Not steel, she noticed, but iron alloys weren't favored among their kind. "You should be proud."

Rey didn't dare move. He'd called her a dustling. That wasn't a word most mortals would use. 

Once there were thousands of witches, many among the best-respected families in the country. Some had been arrogant, prideful, and wicked, and the people had risen up against them, killing all but a handful of despicable survivors who'd fled into the shadows. That was what the stories claimed, justifying the slaughter after the act. The second revolution had come twenty years later, including the witches who'd lived in hiding all that time. Their story told of casting down a ruthless dictator who'd twisted the will of the people into his own grasp for power. Some of the old witch families had been returned to favor. Others stayed in the dust and the dark, unwilling or unable to rise from their hiding holes and become one of the elect. Still others found the gift growing wild inside them, born not from a high lineage but from the random spark of raw magic itself striking the soul for its own unknowable purpose.

"Dustling" was an insult, but the people of the dust were her people, the few she'd met in her travels. She didn't dare live with them for more than a few days at a time. They traded spells and moved on, each ready to teach the next familiar stranger they passed on the street with the sudden, inexplicable thrill passing through both at the mutual recognition.

This familiar strange knew about magic and that meant this probably wouldn't work. Rey tried anyway. She cast her voice into a hypnotic murmur as she said, "You will drop your sword and go."

To her relief, the sword dropped. "Impressive. I felt that."

He'd left himself open, and Rey took the advantage, striking out with her foot. He jumped back. She was buffeted with a surge of power, pushing her against the tree, holding her in place. He came closer. In this dim light, she could almost make out his features. He wasn't much older than she was, and while she'd swear she'd never seen his face before, he seemed peculiarly familiar, like an old friend she'd long anticipated meeting, and her breath gasped in with the shock.

Something in the way he stared at her said the same. He shook his head, as though clearing it of shadows. "You stole the map from Lord Snoke's museum. Give it to me now."

Rey frowned, cursing herself. She'd charmed the guard but she hadn't had time to look for the security cameras. All she had was the truth. "I didn't steal it. It's mine."

"Lord Snoke disagrees."

"I didn't know he hired witches as security forces." No point in pretending she didn't know what he was, what they both were.

He seemed affronted. "I don't work for him. I was coming for the map. It's not yours. It belonged to my grandfather, which makes it rightfully mine." He raised the sword again. "Give the map to me, and I'll let you go back to your dust unharmed."

Even as she shook with anger, she knew who he was as well as what. "You're Ben Solo."

The last scion of one of the highest witch families on this tired world glared at her petulantly. "I don't answer to that name any longer."

She needed a weapon. He had the advantage as long as he had a sword and she had nothing but her wits. Her powers were still growing, uneven and wild like dandelions springing up between the cracks of ancient flagstones. She'd called down the lightning once on a would-be assailant, but she'd sworn never again.

"Do you even know where it leads?" she asked him, stalling for time.

"To great power."

She shook her head. "It leads to my home. Snoke stole it from my parents before they died." She'd come here tonight to visit their graves. Now that she had the map, she would need certain items buried with the beloved dead. She promised herself she would never tell Solo, or whatever he called himself. "It's mine."

The sword lowered. "You're the girl. Rey, was it? That explains your powers." His voice had returned to thoughtful. "I propose a truce. We both want what's at the other end of that map. Work with me, and we'll find it together."

Deep inside her mind, past the locks on her memories her parents had placed in a final gesture of what they thought was love, she felt a stirring. Yes, she should join him. Together they would disinter the relics buried with her parents and use them as the keys back to the land where Rey belonged. This was how things were meant to play out.

The thought tempted her, and strange, related thoughts: his hand in hers as they traveled, his mouth against hers as they.... She shoved the thoughts away. "No."

"Disappointing. If you don't help me, I'll have to kill you. Neither of us wants that." She felt that from him, and more, the reflection of the strange desire that had welled inside her.

"I told you, go!" The anger bubbled up from her feet, out of her control before she could stop it. Overhead, the sky rumbled in brief warning before a brilliant flash of lightning struck the ground between them, deflecting from his head at the last second. She didn't let herself pause, hitting the ground running as fast as she could away from him, away from here. She could return on another night to steal her parents' last legacy to her, and by this return to her ancestral home.

As she fled, Rey felt an odd, intimate tickle inside her mind. Words formed that were not her own thoughts: "I'll find you again."

Part of her wanted to tremble with terror or yell with rage. Another part remembered the sight of his face and the sudden surety that she knew him. Deep inside herself, she trembled with a different emotion.

She would see him again. She was sure of it. And should he ask her again to join with him on the quest, she was not certain she'd refuse a second time.


End file.
